Monthly archive

March 2011

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Nail-biting time

There's a theory that suggests that after a lot of books -- well over a hundred -- I should be totally calm, cool and collected at the thought of another one hitting store shelves. I'm not.


If anything, as I grow -- shall we say -- more seasoned, it's even scarier. The stakes are higher. Publishing these days is more competitive than ever. Stores are closing. There are more and more demands for readers' time. There are an increasing number of formats that come into play and affect sales.


So as Tuesday's official on-sale date for Driftwood Cottage nears, I am already well into full-fledged panic mode. Will the books be on the shelves where they belong? Will they sell? How quickly? Will readers like the book and tell their friends? Will reality fall short of expectations with this return to a beloved set of characters? In other words, I'm a wreck.


Fortunately this week I have an old college friend visiting from Denver. We've been to the Sony Ericsson tennis matches -- and roasted, by the way -- to see Kim Clisters, Robin Soderling and Andy Murray play. Sadly, no Nadal on my day there, but there's nothing better than the atmosphere of electricity at seeing some of the great names in the game on court. We've also gotten together with my old college roommate and two other women who were on the same corridor in our dorm at Ohio State about a million years ago. We've partied with other friends from out of town. That should be a great distraction, right?


Only up to a point. When it comes to adding anxiety into the mix, I'm perfectly capable of multi-tasking. By Tuesday, when I start poking around in bookstores, I'll be lucky to be coherent. The only positive note is that my visiting friend happened upon an ad for what sounded like totally decadent ice cream bars now on sale at Walmart. So once I've scanned the shelves, counted the books, worried about why even one is still there, I can sit in the parking lot and stuff my face with ice cream. It's not a way to handle stress that I recommend. I should probably run laps around the parking lot, instead.


If any of you reading this happen to be authors, I'd love to hear how you handle the stress of on-sale week. And from the rest of you, any stress relief tips in general would be welcome. Telling me you've found Driftwood Cottage at your favorite bookstore would definitely help my stress level! You can reply right here or pop over to my website, www.sherrylwoods.com and click on Facebook to go directly to my fan page, where you can post your thoughts as well.


Add a few prayers for my sanity while you're at it, because this is just the beginning. Moonlight Cove and Beach Lane are coming up just weeks from now, as well. By June, I'll probably be twitching.

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Sunday, March 20, 2011

I understand....or do I?

One of my writer friends, the talented romantic suspense author Carla Neggers, has credited me in a quote you may have seen with "a deep understanding of human nature." Not to question her flattering opinion, but there are days I wonder if I actually get anything about people in the real world anymore.


For instance, there's Charlie Sheen. I have tried really, really hard to avoid even mentioning that distressing situation. When a successful actor with a hit sit-com manages to implode, taking an entire cast and production team with him, to say nothing of his own family, it's tragic.


There's a temptation to say, as his character once did when conversing with women, "I understand," when we don't have a clue. Sure, there's a serious problem there. I'm neither a psychiatrist nor an expert on addiction, though I have a little experience dealing with alcoholics with anger management issues. That said, I can't profess to understand what makes Charlie Sheen tick.


At the same time, I'm having even more trouble with the people who are apparently willing to fork out up to $750 for a meet-and-greet with the star or even those willing to spend a lot less for the chance to watch him rant on stage on his upcoming "concert" tour. Why?


Is this the train-wreck mindset? You know, when something is so terrible it makes you sick inside, but you can't seem to look away? Is it the opportunity to get up close and personal with a celebrity who's seemingly lost all touch with reality just to see what he might do next? Do people really want to contribute to someone who's just singlehandedly kicked a whole bunch of people in the teeth and left their livelihoods in shambles?


I'm seriously asking here, because I honestly don't understand. If you're in one of the cities where Charlie Sheen is appearing, are you going? If so, I'd love to hear why. If you're not in one of those cities, would you go if you did have the chance? Again, please tell me why. You can comment here, or hop on over to my fan page on Facebook and chime in there. To get to that page quickly, just go to www.sherrylwoods.com and click on the Facebook link. If you haven't already "liked" that page, be sure you do it. That's where I'm giving away free books from time to time, so you don't want to miss your chance to enter the contests. See you there.


 


 

Friday, March 11, 2011

Where does time go?

That is not a deep philosophical question. It just means, as it does for so many of you, that there are not enough hours in the day. I have not been off celebrating my very heady Oscar night victory -- yes, I picked the winners in all five of the top categories -- though that was, indeed, worth celebrating.  I've been trying to keep up with life.


I've concluded that our days are not so much filled with crises as little bits of water torture that, cumulatively, erode sanity. There are the trips to the grocery store that yield only half the things on our lists. The trip to the pharmacy only to discover back home that the prescription is short by 60 of the 90 pills, though we've paid for all of them. There's the rare outing to a favorite store for new clothes, only to discover that the spring palette was apparently created by some depressed soul living in a rainy climate. Dreary, dreary, dreary.


Some chores are barely tolerated in the best of times. Having to do them over, because they can't be completed or because someone messed up is beyond annoying. And it takes time, precious time most of us don't have to waste, especially those of you with kids who need to get to after-school activities or cupcakes to bake for the PTA sale or any of the myriad other duties that come with being a stay-at-home or a working mom.


There are the detailed emails we send in response to a query from an editor or boss that somehow vanish into cyberspace. There are the papers we fill out for some government agency that never quite get into the hands of the right person. There are even the silly messages -- three of them -- left to make a reservation for lunch that are not returned for days, only to be told when a human being is finally reached, "You should have just left the request in the message." And known that the reservation was confirmed how? There's nothing I'd love more than showing up at a crowded restaurant to discover that there's no reservation on record.


And so it goes, just living. To think it's about to get even more insane around here with book deadlines lying in wait (not to mention the one just met), radio interviews coming up, guest blogs to write, company already here from Ohio, more company coming to visit from Denver, and a friend heading this way after being one of the human rights observers arrested and jailed in Egypt.


It's that last that puts my life right back in perspective. I might be weary or irritated, but I'm safe and far, far away from the real turmoil in the world. And for that I'm grateful every single day of my life. I hope you are, too.